


Who Needs Razors?

by ArcticLucie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale as Superman, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Fic, M/M, Reporter!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9077929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticLucie/pseuds/ArcticLucie
Summary: Stiles is a damn good reporter and doesn't shy away from asking the most sought-after superhero the hard-hitting questions... like how he shaves.Or the one where Stiles's brain is preoccupied with beard burn and (Super)manscaping.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilvixen25](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilvixen25/gifts).



> A late Christmas present for Lilvixen25 who asked me if Super!Derek waxed... and well, I just couldn't let it go.

Stiles is a reporter, one of the best in the business, and it’s his job to be inquisitive, to ask the tough questions, the ones no one else has the balls to. Yes, his mind gets carried away from time to time, and some of the things he asks in interviews might be misconstrued by normal humans as intrusive, but as his father likes to remind him, he also suffers from Foot-In-Mouth Disease. 

It’s nothing deadly or contagious, unless of course you ask an offensive question to a man with superhuman strength and laser eyes, one that happens to be carrying you a couple hundred feet in the air when you decided to open your ridiculous mouth, which is what Stiles has just done.

“Excuse me?”

He feels Superman’s hands falter and he instinctively clutches tighter to his neck, the very smooth neck that Stiles imagines would feel like silk against his lips, so he refuses to take the blame for this. Superman reestablishes his grip, much to Stiles’s deep appreciation for not dying, as the most intrepid reporter the Daily Planet has ever known tries to think of a way out of this one with some of his dignity intact.

“I just meant… I’m a very thorough report—you’re the Man of Steel and….”

Stiles hates it when his brain makes a fool of him.

“I’ve seen bullets bounce right off you, so I just wondered how you get such a close shave, or if you even shave at all. Does your hair grow or is that babyface permanent because I for one would love to toss out my razor for good. Did they even make razors strong enough or do you have to use a machete? Or maybe wax is more effective?” And he wasn’t going to finish that train of thought. “Not that it’s any of my business or even important or something my editor would let me print, but, oh boy, just feel free to drop me any time now.”

He can’t even facepalm with his arms twisted around Superman, and yeah, maybe he’s not as scared of heights as he lets Superman think he is, but he’s _weak_ and Superman is… well _Superman._ So he hangs on like he’s drowning and hopes Superman doesn’t get tired of his prattling and decide to let gravity have its way with him.

In the end, Superman doesn’t drop him, which he appreciates, but he still hasn’t answered Stiles’s question by the time they touch down on the roof of the Daily Planet. Stiles thrusts his hands into his pocket, not trusting them to keep from getting him into even more trouble by reaching out and stroking Superman’s face.

Superman has a strange twinkle in his eye that Stiles can’t read. Despite a dozen or so encounters, Stiles doesn’t know him well enough for that, but at least now they’re on stable ground. And if he really needs to put an end to his embarrassment, the edge of the roof is only a few steps away, which he realizes he might need _after_ his mouth starts up again.

“I bet your beard burn is deadly, like forget exfoliating, you could probably strip your girlfriend’s face off… or boyfriend’s? I think I’ll just shut up now.”

Superman chuckles, and Stiles can’t help it if his chest gets warm at the sound of it. “Anyway, thanks for saving my bacon _again._ I think I owe you a couple of beers by now.” And he really shouldn’t have said that because now he wants to ask if Superman can get drunk, but he refrains. One monumentally dumb question is quite enough for tonight, and since his brain likes to torture him, his thoughts turn to (Super)manscaping as his cheeks flush. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

Stiles turns toward the door, hoping to escape with some semblance of professionalism, but before he can reach it, Superman darts in front of him. 

“Heat vision.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles asks, his brow furrowing as he tries not to flail at Superman’s sudden reappearance.

“I use a piece of my ship to reflect my heat vision back on my face and burn it off. It’s quite effective, which keeps me from striping my girlfriend or boyfriend’s face off.”

“Oh,” Stiles replies, jaw going slack.

“My hair is very strong, so if we kissed on a regular basis, you could probably toss out your razors.” He smirks and Stiles’s heart does this little spazzy thing that he belatedly hopes Superman hadn’t heard. “See you around, Stiles. And try to stay out of trouble.” He takes off without warning, lost in the beams of sunshine pouring down. 

“Not likely,” Stiles mumbles to himself as he reaches for the door.

*

Stiles is still in that hazy state of post-Superman euphoria when the news team sits down for their latest briefing. He’s smiling like an idiot at the thought of Superman giving himself laser hair removal and how smooth and warm his cheeks would feel against Stiles thighs right after when Scott nudges him, the bastard. “Huh, what?” he sputters, looking up at an expectant Lydia.

“I asked if you learned anything new about Superman during your last encounter?” she repeats.

“Uh….” He hesitates. On one hand, he’s a reporter, a damn good one, but on the other, he kind of likes the idea of knowing something about his very inappropriate crush that no one else does because he knows no one has ever been stupid enough to ask Superman how he shaves. “No, nothing.”

He catches Derek’s eye, one of his dark brows raised in what might be surprise, but Stiles soon falls back into that weird state as he tunes out the rest of the meeting.

*

It’s two weeks later—and three more encounters with Superman—before he finally notices another neck that looks strangely familiar and as smooth as rose petals, but this time it’s on Derek Hale, the clumsy, nerdy, shy reporter Stiles shares a cubicle with, his head thrown back as he drinks from a bottle of water.

That’s when Stiles’s suspicions start, and while it might take him a few months of inconspicuous digging before he gets two “first kisses” and confirmation that Superman and Derek Hale are one in the same, he’s pretty happy when he gets to toss his razors out for good.


End file.
